Common

Force-claiming is allowed here once a week per character, as is blocking force-claims by the Peak/Lagoon (as a whole) once a week. Rollover is on Sundays.

~ I am afraid it is my heart,
Posted on August 7, 2021 at 05:47:59 PM by R o l a n d

�

Roland, Roland wake up! Hilda pleaded.

His dark lashes fluttered open to find Hilda just mere inches from his face. A playful tugged at her dark lips as she stared down at him. She was beautiful. Her skin like the deepest night with white delicately brushed across her belly, along her supple hips and down her dainty legs. Her laughter always filled her brilliant blue eyes, floated around him, and warmed him with the honey sweet tones. She was his.

Ever since they were children, he would follow her around, doe eyed and admiring. Every time she laughed, he made sure that he would laugh along with her. She was his and he was hers. Their fates woven together by the three spinners. Forever.

Hva� er �a�? he asked with sleep still in his brilliant blue seeing eye. They have come.. Hilda whispered, terror in her dark eyes. Immediately he pulled himself from the soil and to his full height. His seeing eye swept across the wide open meadow at the base of the mighty mountain, they had thought themselves safe, but alas they had been wrong.

Hilda run! Hide! the words hung in the still air, as he watched her pivot away from him and disappeared into the dark forest. She would be safe there. His heart leapt in his throat as he turned from his beloved and to the invaders.

He had heard rumors of the invaders - they are swift and ride atop their slaves, they sling ropes and steal what is not theirs. And if you are captured by them - none, except a blessed few - have ever returned to their homeland. His dark ears disappeared into his gnarled mane and a challenging bugle ripped from between barred teeth as he lunged toward the invaders.

-
"Roland, my love I am here," the voice breathes in the dark. His seeing eye widens and desperately looks for her in the depths of ships shadows.

The world around him creaks and moans, the floors shudder and buck beneath his saucer-like hooves. There is the pungent stench of fear, it permeates through the walls and swirls around all them. His heart hammers wildly against his ribs as he actively looks around him. His head jerks to and fro against the tight neck rock. His seeing eye flicks around. It scans the shadows of the other horses, the faint glow of a lamp and a wide open door with stairs that led out of this hell hole.

His seeing eye pauses on the pair brilliantly colored twins, they are familiar, but their encounter had been brief and even now he has forgotten their names.

It was in this moment - the wood shudders beneath his hooves and with it comes the whoosh of frigid sea water and the panicked cries of the other inhabitants. The ocean water rushes into his small box stall and splashes around his knees, instantly he rears up as far as the ropes around his neck would allow. A panicked bugle rips from his lips and his mouth falls agape with his teeth barred. As his hooves connect with the wooden floor, he strains and pulls against the ropes around his neck and face. Another panicked cry falls from his lips just as the ropes snap and sends him forward crashing into the stall door. There is a lurch and then the audible splintering of wood as his massive body topples into the alleyway.

A moan falls from his lips as he pulls himself from the hard floor. He shakes his large head back and forth, his seeing eye squints against the pitch black. There is just the scream of horses, human blabber, and the constant whoosh of water. Another deafening crack and the sea water pours in faster, the waters rise rapidly around him. His heart hammers against his ribs and panic rises in his throat just as the waters pull him off of his hooves and through the gaping whole.

-

"Hilda is that you?" he groans and clinches his eyes tightly shut. His throat hurts, every muscle in his body protests and his head feels like it has split wide open. Slowly, second by second, he checks in with his body. He can feel the sea water's swirling around his legs, the soft sand beneath his body and the sun on his skin. "Is this Valhalla?" he croaks as he tries to lift his muzzle toward his love.

"No, you are not in Valhalla, but it is time to get up." the voice commands. It as if the voice breathes strength into his bones and repairs his protesting muscles. A grunt leaves his lips as he draws his aching legs beneath his body and climbs onto his hooves. He winces and notices the stinging pain from the ropes that hang around his chest, the multiple rope burns across his neck that are now raw and bleeding - agitated from the sea water - and a few scrapes across his front legs from the splintering wood.

The sand clings to his russet and white skin, in his knotted mand and against the side of his face. He stumbles away and toward the sound of voices. His steps are slow and deliberate, it gives him a moment to take in his surroundings. His seeing eye scans around him. He had landed on a wide open beach, frost clings to yellowed grasses as far as his eye could see, and there is the unmistakable scent of other horses. His eye focuses on a trio of horses, two he recognizes from the ship and the other was strange to his eye.

His ears appear from his knotted mane as he draws closer to them. His brow furrows as he watches the interaction of the newcomer towards the shipwrecked women. She seems harmless enough, but another swim seems too soon, even though the invitation had not been for him. He feels immediately protective of the women - mostly for selfish reasons - since these two were the only familiar thing he had right now.

"What is this place?" he asks, his voice husky and foreign on his lips.

R o l a n d

Son of a Nordic Overlord

Draft Mutt - Sooty Panagre Bay Overo - Stallion

html, art & character � erin | pixel base � fintron | Ref Here

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